


Something Old. Something New.

by Mattman8907



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattman8907/pseuds/Mattman8907
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's Wedding Day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Old. Something New.

White has never been my color.

Not to say that I am impure or anything that the color white entails. I don't even like white roses- friendship? Right. I can safely say that the only white I have ever seriously adorned myself with is of the snow variety. Until today, that is.

The girl staring back at me in the mirror looks calm, cool, and collected-- hardly reflective of what she's really thinking. I'm pleased with how I look today, allowing myself the rare luxury of getting my hair and makeup done professionally. Cassie is off somewhere doing something with the veil; I just nodded and waved her on when she frantically ran off. I can barely move my head as it is for fear of messing up the stylist's hard work, what am I supposed to do with a veil adding to it?

Every girl is supposed to look forward to this day, right? But for me, the idea of a ceremony where the words 'all the days of your life' and 'eternity' are so casually thrown around is not my cup of tea. Besides the fact that the twenty minute ceremony and reception afterwards managed to take up a year's worth of planning and enough check writing and credit card charges to feed a small country for a year, the stress is enough trouble all on its own. But today is my day. Our day, in fact, I remind myself. And Practical Sam needs to be set aside so that I can enjoy everything, from the rings to the first dance to throwing the bouquet. Somewhere in those plans, too, there's a groom.

Ah, yes, him. He isn't exactly the guy I imagined walking down the aisle towards my whole life, but I like the fact that he was just a sweet surprise instead. To put it plainly, I'm head over heels in love with him. When he asked me a year ago, when he actually said those words to me early one morning when we were still warm in bed despite the Colorado winter, I was blown away. It's not like I have never thought about marriage before; there have even been a few guys down the line that casually slipped the concept into conversation-- after which I gracefully bolted, of course.

But when he asked me that question, slipping the platinum diamond ring onto my finger just as I was waking up in his arms, looking at me with that earnest look in his eyes, for a second I didn't see the future ahead but a past I was saying goodbye to. And a reason to say goodbye to it right in front of me. So here we are today, a year later, and he's probably ready to go, talking about god knows what, with his groomsmen while I sit here, a wreck. I am not exactly having cold feet, more like my entire life is flashing before my eyes-- in the best way though, if there is one.

Before I can get any deeper into my thoughts, I hear a soft knock on my door. I straighten up, smiling my best into the mirror before moving to the door and cracking it open a little bit. 

“Um, I don't think anyone is supposed to see me before the ceremony, Sir, and I'm sure that goes for you, too,” I whisper, hoping he's not here to notify me of an impending getaway of a groom-to-be.

“Relax, Carter, no one's here. Not to concern you, but Cassie left your veil at the house so she's high-tailing it back there, “is his easy, albeit whispered reply. “Can I come in for a second?”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “If you must, although if the cake tips over and the minister doesn't show up I'm going to blame it on you for causing bad luck. It's some weird ritual to keep the bride locked up, not only in an insane amount of lace and crinoline but also a room that forces her to primp.” I open the door just enough for him to furtively slip through before closing it safely behind him and sitting back at the vanity.

He grabs a chair and pulls it up a few feet in front of me so that we are facing each other, my back to the mirror. “Cold feet yet, Carter?”

“No, I think I'm good, Sir.” I straighten my dress skirt and fold my hands in my lap, wondering what the point of this impromptu visit is.

Jack wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, leaning forward. “Because, you know, you can back out of this at any time...” 

I let out a frustrated groan. “Are you really having this conversation with me right now?” I ask incredulously.

“Well I figured since Daniel has a camera practically glued to his hand right now, off doing his 'I'm a discredited archeologist that is also a member of a top-secret government program that still makes time for weddings' gig, as the person who has known you the next longest it was my duty to give you 'the talk.'“

“And that would be...”

He folds his hands behind his head and leans back in his chair with a cheeky grin. “The usual, you know, do you really love this guy, because he seems kind of squishy around the edges to me, but that's beside the point; do you want to make this commitment that will last the rest of your life...That is until you hit mid-life crisis time and run off with a physical trainer named Sven, which you really should try to avoid because I'm pretty sure a divorce would be almost as expensive as this shin-dig going on today--”

“Listen, Sir,” I interrupt, “I think it's really great that you are up to date on divorce prices, remind me to ask you about that later, but let me assure you of one thing--” I move the seat forward to him and whisper conspiratorially, “I'm never going to have a physical trainer.”

His face, which had before grown serious thinking I was going to let him on a real secret, breaks into a grin. “Well, in that case, I guess you're all set! But, one last thing,” he says, his voice becoming progressively more somber.

“Yeah?” I ask, glancing at the clock behind him and noting that its ten minutes before this thing starts and I still have no veil.

“You sure about this, Sam?”

It's not so much the words in the question that surprise me as much as it is him asking it, his head bowed a little bit, leaning forward with his hands folded in front of him. To some people, Jack O’Neill is all about charm and jokes, but it's when that real sincerity shines through that I remember all that I loved about him back when we were on SG-1.

I place a hand lightly on his. “I've never been more sure, Sir.” I say quietly. And suddenly those words become startlingly true, all pre-wedding jitters cast aside. Looking into Jack's brown eyes I see that I have let go of all the pain in the past, all the years of turmoil and love-triangles, to the point where we forgave each other in some silent understanding years ago. And I know that I will never again look at him and wonder what could have been, because that is just not something my heart is willing to do anymore.

But suddenly he's replying to me quietly and I'm torn away from my reverie. “I know it hasn't been easy, Carter, but I want you to know that for the better part of my life I just wanted what was good for you. And if you really think that you've found it, then I'm sure that nothing can hold you back from this happiness.”

I smile a little, removing my hand from his clasp and turning around to look into the mirror, checking myself out for the umpteenth time, whispering a thank you to him as I turn. He's looking at me in the mirror, an expression on his face that I can't quite read.

“You know you look really beautiful today, Sam.” Jack offers.

I brush off his compliment, a feeling of nervousness and anticipation fluttering in my stomach. “You really should get back into the church hall, if Cassie or Vala catches you in here they'll skin you alive, and then where will we be? Your bar is catering after all, and my guests expect good booze.” I tease.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, standing up. “Right, because all I'm good for is the booze.” 

“Well that and the 'I have a getaway car waiting out front if you want to ditch this thing' moral support talk,” I say, wrinkling my nose up at him.

“Once again--” he starts before changing his mind. “Whatever, it'd be all about you and me eloping in Vegas at that point, anyway!” He answers back with a mischievous grin.

I roll my eyes at him again for good measure. “Right. How about you bring that idea up again in about an hour when my husband is present?”

“I don't think he would be too thrilled, given the amount of money--”

“Sir! Out!” I interrupt, laughing and tossing a spare hair pin at him as he opens the door slightly. 

“Ok, Ok! Easy there, Carter. It's not every day I...” He trails off, his mood again going from light-hearted to serious in an instant. “You know what? The real reason I came in here was to tell you that I have a sneaking suspicion that this groom is one of the good ones, and that you made the right decision. He's probably going to spend the rest of his life trying to make you as happy as you are making him today.”

I smile at him, looking at him through the mirror. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sir. What makes you say that?”

For a moment he doesn't say anything, already half turned to leave when he finally glances back at me. “I can say from experience that making you happy, Samantha, is probably one of the most rewarding experiences of all. And any guy that can claim a piece of your heart is lucky, so I can only imagine what it is like to claim all of it on a day like this.” 

And suddenly he's behind me again, leaning down to kiss my cheek and I close my eyes for the briefest moment. In that second I see a man kissing me just outside of his cabin for the first time, hugging me that cold morning after my father had died, dancing with me at Cassie’s wedding, all of those painful goodbyes and quiet hellos, all images with such intensity packed into them that I can almost physically feel them being locked away somewhere in the deep recesses of my heart.

When my eyes open, just beginning to glisten with tears, he's already closing the door behind him. I stare back at the girl in front of me, and she lifts her hand to softly place her fingertips where his lips had met her cheek.

The door flies open, startling me, as an out of breath Cassie practically leaps into the room, veil in hand. “One minor issue, out of the way. Are you Ok?” She asks while taking deep breaths as if she has just finished running a marathon-- although I wouldn't have put it past her to run the entire way back to the house to complete her veil mission.

It takes me a second, but I smile. “Yes,” I hear myself say. “Everything's perfect.”  
~*~

Teal’c has my arm and we're standing just short of the doorway, waiting for the overly controlling wedding coordinator to wave us on after Cassie, the matron of honor, has walked some appropriate length down the aisle. Finally we get the go ahead and Teal’c smiles reassuringly at me, patting my arm with his free hand before moving us forward.

With each step down the aisle I feel people's eyes on me, which is thankfully probably the only time I will have such attention focused on my single person. About half way down, though, the gravity of exactly what is about to take place hits me.

But instead of slowing down and feeling my heart tugging me away, I pick up my step slightly, feeling everything else except that person in front of me fade away into some sort of haze. When I finally reach him, I impatiently wait for him to shake Teal’c's hand before being rewarded with his brilliant smile when I am finally face to face with him. 

And my heart lightens, my stomach fluttering with anticipation, as I see for once not all that was or could have been with one single person but all the things to come. The words 'thank you' echo in my head, thanking whoever up there believes in second, third, and maybe even fourth chances for the heart.

My hand trembles ever so little as he takes it in his, the people and the minister's voice coming into sharp focus again. I'm supposed to be listening to the minister's opening words so I know what to say later and when to say it, but how can I when this man is standing in front of me, with that look in his eyes that tells me things that we never say enough to each other, but we always just know. 

He must notice my thoughts getting lost in his eyes, because he squeezes my hand with a small chuckle.

“Shall, we, Carter?” He murmurs, as we move up one step of the altar.

A smile tugs my lips as I answer, “We shall…Jack.”

And with that, I let him claim my whole heart, because it was always his in the first place.


End file.
